


Hold On (To Me)

by nightlight9



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 11:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8843905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightlight9/pseuds/nightlight9
Summary: When Stiles finds Derek on a night when his grief is overwhelming, he doesn’t know what to do. He’s never seen such an empty expression before outside of Hollywood dramas. All he knows is that he wants to help. After taking care of him, Stiles continues to care for Derek, and they learn to rely and trust each other while they hunt down the rogue alpha.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [@cuddlyobrien](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%40cuddlyobrien).



> This takes place through the first season of the show, retelling how it would have been had Stiles and Derek became friends/allies sooner.
> 
> Warnings: When this fic starts, Derek is in a very bad state of grief because of what happened to his family, and there are other dark moments throughout the fic. There is minor cursing, and drinking as a coping mechanism is mentioned.

Stiles doesn’t know what to do. He’s never seen such an empty expression before outside of Hollywood dramas. He wasn’t even sure that it was possible to appear so void without being dead. It seemed impossible that a person could be nearly lifeless in vulnerability. But he can’t stop watching Derek, who’s curled up on his side, laying on the floor of the house where his family died, staring at a wall and not moving. He hasn’t responded to Stiles’ presence since the human boy stumbled through the house, hasn’t even really blinked. In fact, Stiles only knows that he is alive because of the shallow breaths that are making his chest move. 

Originally, he had been hunting down the werewolf in order to get some answers about how to train Scott who had been having trouble with his control but refused to even consider going to Derek for advice. So, Stiles took matters into his own hands (like always), and went to Derek himself (like always).

He never expected to find the older man like this. Sure, he knew that Derek had a rough past. Frankly, his life was more like a tragedy than anything else. But he was always so confident, always kept moving forward and looking ahead, always so in control. Even when they dug up Laura’s body and got him arrested, even when he was shot and was slowly being poisoned to death, he never seemed broken down. Stiles thought that he was just angry all of the time.

He feels like kicking himself for not seeing how desperate the werewolf actually is. Because even though they aren’t really friends, even though they are barely even allies when it comes to hunting down the rouge alpha, no one deserves to look like Derek does now. And no one should suffer alone.

There are two blankets in the back of the jeep that the sheriff put there in case Stiles got stranded somewhere. Stiles has never been so thankful for his dad’s concern. He takes both of them inside and tucks them around Derek as gently as he can. Briefly, Derek’s eyes find his; his gaze is so achingly raw it makes Stiles’ heart clench. Then he looks away, finds his spot on the wall and goes back to staring. 

Operation: Make Derek Alive Again is already in full effect at that point. Stiles clicks his tongue, tells the werewolf to hold on, and then runs back to the jeep. Sure, maybe by the time he makes it into town and back again, Derek will have disappeared with all of his bottled-up emotions. But he’s willing to take that chance. Because he understands grief. He understands feeling alone and being so hopeless it hurts. And because of that, he knows what can help.

He heads to the store first and fills a shopping cart to the brim with pillows (sure, he gets some strange looks from other shoppers, and sure it puts a dent in his wallet, but dammit, pillows are necessary), pillow cases, another blanket, and two bags of Hersey’s Kisses. The next stop is at his favorite Chinese restaurant where he orders two servings of wanton soup. Then he drives to the local coffee shop to get homemade hot chocolate. 

Stiles thanks every deity he knows that there are no police cruisers around the route he takes back to the preserve, because he definitely would have been pulled over. And he doesn’t want to have to explain what he’s doing to anyone, especially not his father. Because in all honesty, he can’t logically say what’s driving him forward with such desperation. He’s just following his instincts.

When Stiles returns, Derek hasn’t moved, and Stiles is both happy and sad to see him in the same place. He brings the pillows in first, and props them all around Derek’s body. The werewolf makes a confused sound but doesn’t protest. Stiles doesn’t stop to explain. He sets the last blanket off to one side and goes to get the food. He preens when Derek’s nose twitches and some of the awareness returns to his eyes; it makes him happy to see some movement and recognition from Derek. And then Stiles takes a risk. 

Inhaling deeply, he meets Derek’s gaze and says, “I’m going to touch you; is that okay?”

His eyebrows, which Stiles is so used to seeing curled down in anger, furrow. Derek just stares. Then, in a motion that Stiles almost misses, Derek nods.

When Stiles was younger, after his mother died and before his father stopped drinking, Melissa was the only person there to comfort him. She would set Stiles on her lap so that his back was pressed to her chest, and she would tell him to focus on her heartbeat and the rhythm of her breathing. Being so close to someone, being able to relax back and just let everything go knowing that they were there supporting you, that was what helped Stiles pull himself back together. It was the same method that he used on his dad, the one that finally broke through the haze of alcohol and made him put his drinks down in favor of being a good father. Stiles had come up to him one night when he was curled against the corner of the bed where his wife used to sleep, hugged him hard from behind, and told him to listen for the life within him. It brought his dad back from his all-consuming grief, and Stiles hopes it can do the same for Derek.

Carefully, he sits at the werewolf’s back and rearranges some of the pillows so that he can lean against them, then pulls the last blanket up. When he’s sure that the food and drinks are within arm’s reach, he tugs Derek until the werewolf is sprawled across his lap, back pressed to his chest, and Stiles can curl his arms around him in a tight embrace. Derek is ridged; all of his muscles are tense and ready to flee. Stiles expects him too. But then, on a forced exhale, Derek relaxes back. 

“Match your breathing with mine,” he tells him. “Listen to the way that my heart is beating. There’s food here whenever you want it, okay. But for now, just hold on.”

And Derek does. He grips at his arms, presses his fingers against the pulse point on Stiles’ wrist, and holds tight. Stiles can tell that he’s crying, can feel how the sobs tear from his body, can hear the nearly silent whimpers. But he doesn’t say anything. He wonders when the last time Derek let himself go like this, when he last allowed himself to cry. 

When Derek finally pulls away, Stiles silently passes him one tub of wonton soup, cracks open his own, and watches to make sure that the werewolf eats every last drop. He also makes sure Derek drinks all of the hot chocolate (even though it’s lukewarm at that point), and gives him three of the Kisses, before finally standing up and moving towards the door.

Derek looks healthier. There is color in his cheeks again, his eyes track Stiles’ movement, and a confused scowl is firmly in place. Stiles smiles at him, and he knows that his scent must be all warm pleasure, but dammit he can’t help it. Seeing Derek look like _Derek_ again because of something he did pleases him in ways he doesn’t understand.

Not wanting to spoil anything, Stiles nods at him once, smiles wider, and turns to walk away. Derek’s quiet, “Thank you,” takes him by surprise. But instead of asking one of the many questions he has or brushing it off, Stiles replies with, “You know, if you ever feel like that again, my bed is much more comfortable than the ground.”

Derek doesn’t respond. Stiles doesn’t need him too. The offer is there if Derek ever wants to follow through. And if the sudden appearance of the pillows on his bed later that week is any indication, Derek must not completely hate the idea of finding comfort in him.

Neither of them bring it up though. The next time they run into each other, Stiles asks Derek for help controlling Scott, Derek scowls but agrees, and Scott is forced to listen as they both give him pointers about making it through the full moon. 

Two nights later, Stiles comes upstairs to find Derek asleep on his bed. Really, he should be bothered by it. They’re not friends, Scott would freak out if he knew that the other werewolf was there, and his dad would kill him. But Derek looks peaceful for once, and Stiles isn’t about to disrupt that. So, he just sits at his desk to finish his homework and then he messes around on the internet, never once even considering disturbing the werewolf. Even when his eyes droop and his head comes to rest on his arms, he doesn’t think about kicking Derek out. 

When he wakes up in the morning, Derek is gone and he’s the one tucked into the bed. Stiles smiles into his pillow, then gets up and goes about his day like normal.

A sort-of system forms after that. Once or twice a week, Stiles will come home from school and Derek will be passed out in the bed. Normally he’s gone by the time Stiles is ready for sleep, but if he’s not the human lets him be.

It changes after the night at the high school though. Sure, before then the hostile feelings that Stiles had for the werewolf had disappeared. He would even go so far as to say that he’s actually kind of fond of Derek, and would argue that maybe Derek doesn’t hate him as much as he pretends to. But seeing the alpha wolf put his claws through Derek makes Stiles realize just how much he’s come to care. Because Derek isn’t just the broody werewolf that occasionally sleeps in his bed for comfort. Derek is a person that experienced so many awful things, who doesn’t know how to deal with his grief, who for some reason trusts Stiles to care for and look after him, who trusts him enough to be vulnerable in sleep around him. And Stiles wants to continue to be his person, wants to watch Derek overcome his grief, bond with Scott, take out the alpha. He wants to care for him because he cares so much about him.

It’s one of those too-little-too-late moments, watching Derek’s body get thrown across the parking lot. But then Scott says that it’s too late for him, and they’re running for their lives, and Lydia and Jackson and Allison are there, and it’s too much. The thought of his dad showing up and getting hurt is too much. It’s all just too much to take in. 

Through all of the chaos, the one thought he seems unable to shake off is how it was _their_ dumb idea to draw out the alpha, _their_ dumb idea that got Derek killed. How it was _his_ fault. Not even punching Jackson takes his mind off of it.

When he finally makes it home, after his classmates make it out of the building and his dad is back and Scott is safe, all of Stiles’ adrenaline is gone. He wants to sleep and punch something and scream in frustration, and he’s so distracted by his overwhelming feelings that he doesn’t even see Derek at first.

The bloody shirt left below the window is what finally gives his presence away, and he spins around, nearly tumbling over in his haste to find him. It makes his heart race, seeing the man he thought was killed because of him, who he’s come to care about against the odds, curled up in his bed, beta blue eyes watching him with a guarded expression. Pure relief crashes though Stiles’ system, so much that he can’t even deal with it. Everything seems to slow down. He feels fragile after their encounter with the alpha, so human it makes his hands shake, and all he wants is sleep.

Stiles takes a step toward the bed. “Scoot over,” he mumbles, kicking his shoes off. Derek makes a questioning noise, but does what he says. His eyes are still bright blue as he watches Stiles change his shirt and pull back the covers.

“Wait.” With that one word, Stiles’ whole body locks. But all Derek says is, “Put some sweats on. Sleeping in jeans is uncomfortable.”

Stiles thinks back to all the times Derek has slept in his room, how he’s never seen him wear anything other than jeans, how the older man won’t allow himself that small comfort even though he wants Stiles too. That realization makes him whine in distress, and he makes a resolution to change that, to try harder to be there for Derek instead of being a silent supporting figure in the background. He may not be a werewolf, but damn it, he understands what pack means. And he knows that Derek doesn’t have one anymore, but thinks that maybe he can be that for him too.

He changes without saying anything about it though, then pushes himself to rest beside Derek on the bed.

It’s awkward. He’s hyperaware of Derek’s presence and is unsure how to fall asleep with that awareness. It doesn’t help that every time he closes his eyes he can see the claws through the werewolf’s chest, hears his friends’ feet clapping through the hallways as they struggle to get away, imagines his dad with lifeless eyes. A warm hand wraps around his wrist. He jolts at the feeling. Derek shushes him and very carefully brings Stiles’ hand up so that it’s pressed against his chest, right over his heart. 

“I’m alive,” he whispers into the dark between them. “Everyone is alive. You’re okay.”

It bothers him that Derek is trying to comfort him, because he was the one that nearly died. But Stiles doesn’t want to let go of that comfort either. Scott didn’t even ask him if he was okay when they left the school, and his dad just kept sending him concerned looks. But Derek understands. 

Stiles curls his fingers into the shirt Derek’s wearing and holds on tightly. Even when the heartbeat under his hand smooths out and slows down with sleep, he holds on. Even when he finally drifts into his own dreamless slumber, his fingers stay curled there. 

He wakes up in the morning, and Derek is still sleeping beside him and all he can feel is relief that he didn’t leave. For a few minutes, he watches the werewolf. It’s amazing how calm he appears, how open his expression is. Stiles remembers how many nightmares he had after his mother died, and it makes him wonder if Derek has nightmares too.

Stiles slips out of bed and heads downstairs to make breakfast. His dad is already sitting at the table with a cup of coffee. His expression is sharp.

“Stiles.” The lack of emotion in his voice makes Stiles freeze in the doorway. “Care to explain why Derek Hale was sleeping in your bed last night?”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that, can’t even think up a lie to explain. So, he tries for honesty, something he’s avoided since Scott was bit.

“Dad, I will explain everything to you, I promise I will. But can I make breakfast first, and make sure that Derek eats? Because if I stop to explain now, he’ll leave. And I just-. I need to make sure he eats first, okay. I need to see him eat something.”

John rubs at his face. “This has something to do with last night, doesn’t it? You know what, fine. I’ll give you breakfast. But as soon as he eats, we’re sitting down to talk about it, you hear me?”

Stiles smiles brightly and agrees, immediately bustling around the kitchen to gather ingredients. When he’s happy with the heaping pile of eggs, potatoes, and toast on the plate, he heads upstairs. Derek is sitting at his desk with an unreadable expression. “Here you go, dude. Breakfast.”

The werewolf takes the plate silently, but he doesn’t start eating. He just stares at it. “Derek?”

“I-. I heard what you told your dad.”

Stiles sits at the edge of his bed. “Listen, I know it’s a big secret, but I can’t keep lying to him. Not after last night. I need him to be safe, and this is the only thing I can do to make that happen.”

“It’s- he’s your family. And that means that you shouldn’t hide anything from him.” His voice is small; Stiles wonders if there’s a story there that explains the guilt evident in his tone that makes him sound small and fragile. “I’ll go down with you, to help explain. If he doesn’t believe you, I can shift for him.”

“You would do that?” Derek nods. “Thanks. I mean, it’s going to make it a lot easier if you’re there to help me.” He crosses his arms. “But first, you’re going to eat all that food. I’m sure you haven’t eaten since before last night, with the claws and the-.” He cuts himself off with a shudder. “Just, eat it. Please.”

Derek narrows his eyes at him, but he doesn’t look threatening. Instead, it seems like he’s finally seeing Stiles completely. He eats the food.

Stiles watches him the whole time, cataloging the way he moves. He’s looking for any sign of an injury, but Derek seems to be completely healed. He’s wearing one of Stiles’ shirts and his jeans, the edge of which is caked with dried blood. Stiles hopes that his dad can overlook it. 

John is still at the kitchen table when they come downstairs. He doesn’t seem surprised to see that Derek is with his son, and the way his eyebrows draw together is an indicator that he sees the blood and isn’t happy about it. 

The discussion goes better than Stiles expected though, which is to say that his dad doesn’t kick either of them out of the house or call them crazy. He isn’t happy that his son has been lying to him, and he definitely needs a drink after he sees Derek shift, but he doesn’t turn them away. Instead, he grabs a beer, takes a long pull from the bottle, and begins brainstorming who the alpha could be. Derek doesn’t know what to do with the immediate support. Stiles puts a hand on his shoulder to steady him, smiles softly when the werewolf looks at him with wide eyes, and launches into the discussion. 

They don’t get anywhere, which isn’t a surprise. A few hours later, his dad needs a break and Derek is starting to look trapped and anxious. Stiles lets them both go and starts making himself lunch. He needs another nap, needs more time to deal with everything. But he needs to figure out who the alpha is more, so that takes priority. 

“Son, I want you to know that Derek is allowed here whenever he needs a place to stay.” He startles when his dad says that, spinning to look at him in confusion.

“Wait, you’re being serious?”

“The only thing that I ask is that he sleeps in the guest room instead of your bed. Because you’re underage and I can’t-.”

Stiles drops his grilled cheese on the floor. “Woah, dad! Rewind! Derek isn’t-. We’re not-. It’s a pack thing!” It’s out of his mouth before he can stop to consider it, but the words taste like truth. “For werewolves, touch is comfort, and Derek hasn’t had that since his sister was killed.”

John rubs his eyes. “And you’re Derek’s pack?”

He straightens his spine. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“What about Scott?”

He picks up the sandwich and throws it away, trying to figure out how to explain it. “Scott hates being a werewolf, and he won’t accept that it’s his life now. He doesn’t even want to deal with it, and I’m trying to help him but he won’t go to Derek so it’s all me. That’s how this started; I had some questions about how to help Scott control the shift. And Derek was-. It wasn’t good, dad. I’ve done my own research, and being a werewolf without a pack is hard. Pack is everything; it’s comfort and love and control; losing a member of your pack is worse than losing your own arm. And Derek lost everyone. He was in a really bad place. So, I took care of him, and it felt nice. I want to keep doing that, keep doing whatever I can for him. Scott is my best friend, and he’ll always be my brother, which means that he’s my pack too; he just doesn’t see that. Eventually, Scott will come around and see the value of pack. When that happens, Derek and I will be there.”

John looks tired; Stiles hates being the reason behind the lines at his eyes. “Just don’t leave him behind, alright.”

“I’m not. But I’m not going to leave Derek by himself until Scott gets his act together.”

For the first time all day, John smiles at his son. It’s big and wide and proud. “You’re a good kid, son. Even though you’ve been lying to me and harboring a fugitive in your bedroom, you care about people”

Stiles shrugs. “I just want to help, that’s all. And even if it doesn’t make sense, I want to do everything I can to make Derek better.”

John scrubs a hand through his hair and sighs. “I know, kid. And I’m proud of you. Just promise me you’ll be carefully.” He averts his eyes. “In all regards kid.”

The implication of his statement makes Stiles flush anew. “Dad!”

The sheriff raises his hands in a placating manor. “Alright, alright. Don’t worry, I won’t bring it up again. And I guess if Derek needs comfort, you can cuddle with him. But I want the door left open at all times, even if you guys are just pack. You hear me?”

He's still mortified, but he nods. “Of course.”

“Good. Now, no more talk about werewolves or anything supernatural. I’m going to head up for a nap. You should try and get some rest too, you look tired.”

“Sure thing, dad.”

John’s lips thin out, but he doesn’t argue. Instead he just sighs again and heads up the stairs. 

After that, things are almost normal, now that normal includes Derek hanging around all the time. Scott hates how much the older man is around; the first time he comes over to Stiles’ house to see Derek sprawled on the bed reading a book casually, Stiles and Scott get into a screaming match. Because Scott can’t believe that Stiles is “hanging out with the enemy” when he’s struggling to be a werewolf, and “aren’t you supposed to be my best friend? You should be on my side!”

Stiles growls out, “There are no sides, Scott,” and just barely resists pointing out that Scott doesn’t even have time for him now that Allison (the hunters’ daughter!) is around. When Scott’s anger gets out of control and his face twists with the shift, Derek throws him out the window. He just grabs him by the back of the shirt and tosses him out, easy as can be. Then he leans out and snarls at him, “Never threaten Stiles with your shift, Scott. You’ll regret it.”

He shuts the window and locks it before turning to Stiles, who’s watching him with his mouth dropped open. “Sorry,” he mutters, shifting uncomfortably. He looks like he wants to run, but Stiles doesn’t give him the chance. He crosses the room and hugs him before he can get away. 

“Thanks,” he huffs against Derek’s shoulder.

His body is stiff. “You’re thanking me for throwing your best friend out the window?”

Stiles laughs and pulls back, watching Derek’s eyebrows narrow in confusion. “I’m thanking you for watching out for me. I know Scott didn’t mean it, I think he forgets that he can sprout claws, but his control was slipping and you protected me.”

That makes Derek look uncomfortable. He swallows, nods, and goes back to his book while Stiles tries to track the alpha.

Sure enough, Scott calls him later and apologies for almost attacking him and for getting mad about Derek hanging around. Stiles accepts his apology, because they’re bros, but makes sure that Scott understands that Derek is not a condition of their friendship; he stays, and that’s final. It doesn’t make Scott happy, but he accepts it as best he can.

They don’t make any progress figuring out who the alpha is until Danny is manipulated into hunting down an IP address. Finding out that the alpha is Derek’s uncle almost breaks Derek down, but he doesn’t hesitate when it comes to keeping Stiles safe. After Derek distracts Peter enough for Stiles to get away, Stiles drives back to his house, calls Scott (voicemail, big surprise what with the lacrosse game), and then waits for Derek to show up again. 

And keeps waiting. And waiting.

Eventually his dad comes home, worried because Stiles didn’t show up at the game. When he hears why, he sends a few deputies to check it out. Neither Derek or Peter are there. Later, Scott calls him to tell him, sounding slightly smug, that Derek and Peter showed up in the locker room after the game to try and get him to join the pack. Stiles hangs up on him, turns off his phone, and climbs into bed. 

His chest hurts, hearing that Derek is with Peter now; it makes it hard to breathe. And he doesn’t want to believe it, but Scott wouldn’t lie about this, which means that that’s the only true possibility. He kicks some of the pillows off before settling in, hoping that it will make him feel less betrayed. It doesn’t.

Sometime after midnight, Stiles hears his window creak open. He sighs deeply and burrows into his covers. “Scott, buddy. I appreciate your concern, but can we not. I turned off my phone for a reason okay. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

There’s a tiny, self-deprecating huff of laughter and then, “I’m not Scott.”

Stiles tumbles out of bed so fast he topples to the floor. Derek is standing in the corner of the room, leather jacket on, looking whole and healthy and so small it makes Stiles ache a little. But he doesn’t let that quell his anger.

“What are you doing here?” Derek flinches at the ice in his tone. “Aren’t you with Peter now? Teamed up with the big bad?” When there’s no denial, Stiles laughs, a cruel sound. “I think you should leave.”

That makes Derek tremble. “Stiles, please. I can’t-. He’s an alpha, and I can’t-.”

“He killed your sister!”

Seeing Derek flinch again should make Stiles feel good. After all, despite everything they’ve gone through, Derek picked Peter. But instead it just makes him feel numb. “Why are you here, Derek? I’ve had a rough day, and I would really like to sleep it all off.”

The werewolf drops his gaze. “I don’t-.” When he looks up again, there is steel in his expression, determination lighting his eyes. “I don’t want to work with him, but I don’t have a choice. I can’t deny him anything, because he’s the alpha and he has power over me. But I don’t want to listen, Stiles. That’s why I’m here. I need-.” Suddenly, he’s angry. “Aren’t you the guy who helps everyone? Why won’t you help me?”

Stiles raises his hands, his own anger softening. “Woah, hold on. Who said I wouldn’t help you? Calm down, Sourwolf. The plan this whole time was to defeat the alpha. That doesn’t change because he’s your uncle or because you can’t tell him no.” As he says it, Stiles feels his nerves solidifying. He will stop the alpha, will save Scott and Derek. No matter what. “Now, I wasn’t lying when I said that I was tired. So, can we please sleep this day off and tackle everything tomorrow. Neither of us will do much good if we’re stressed and exhausted.”

Derek blinks at him, his anger gone, and takes a step back in surprise. “You would let me-. After I went with Peter? You would still let me get close?”

Stiles snorts, grabs his arm, and physically drags the werewolf over to the bed. “I believe you when you say that you don’t want to listen to Peter, and I know that you’ll do everything you can not to help him. I know that because you’re here now instead of running away and hiding somewhere or brooding alone. You’ve come to me, and I’m going to help you. Just like always, Derek. I’m on your side.” He shuffles his feet, and tries to lighten the mood. “Besides, as much as you try and act like you’re tough, I know you’re a softie. Now get under those covers, big guy. We need sleep.”

Stiles doesn’t think that he’ll listen. He doesn’t expect him to. But Derek pulls back the covers and lowers himself onto the bed without arguing. Stiles settles in beside him and closes his eyes. No matter what it takes, he will protect Scott and Derek both.

When he wakes up in the morning, Derek is still there, staring up at the ceiling with a pensive expression. Before he can think about it, Stiles turns onto his side, reaches over, and smooths a finger over his brows. “It’s too early to look so contemplative.”

The werewolf’s frown deepens. It makes Stiles sigh. “Listen, Scott hasn’t given in to Peter yet, and neither will you. You can resist his power the same way.”

“And what way is that?” His voice is a growl.

“Sheer force of will? Find something to hold onto. I know that your anchor is your anger, so hold onto that the same way that Scott holds onto Allison. Don’t let yourself forget what he’s done, and don’t give into him no matter what.”

“That’s a lot easier said than done, Stiles.”

He shrugs as best as he can while laying down. “Then trust me more than you trust yourself. I know that’s a big ask, but when have I steered you wrong?” Stiles expects some sort of backlash, some argument. He almost expects to be tossed out of bed too, but nothing happens. Derek just nods once, turns to face the wall, and remains silent. Stiles stares at his back for a drawn-out moment and then climbs out of bed. He starts to plan.

Derek getting dognapped by Kate is not a part of the plan. Neither is Allison finding out about werewolves. Or having creepy Peter practically kidnap him to get into Scott’s computer. And the whole showdown at the dance between Peter and Lydia is definitely not part of the plan. In fact, his plan is pretty much blown apart at that point. But he gets there in time to save Lydia, and she’s the one who plans the next part. 

Driving out to the preserve with Jackson, Molotov cocktails clenched in his fists, Stiles doesn’t know what will happen. He hopes that they’re not too late, hopes that they can fix everything, hopes that this will be the end.

He doesn’t account for Allison or her father or Kate. But it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t hesitate to throw the cocktail, doesn’t flinch when it hits Peter. But he does stumble back when he sees Derek approach his uncle, the only family that he has left, with a desperate expression and dark eyes. It reminds him of that first night, when he found the werewolf curled up in the Hale house so broken and alone, and his heart breaks when Derek stands above his uncle and slits his throat. 

The forest is silent as Peter’s ragged breathing stops. 

Scott’s jaw clenches angrily, and he’s glaring at Derek like doing so is enough to turn back the time. It makes Stiles sigh, knowing that his best friend will be even more reluctant in joining Derek’s pack. It makes him want to point out that they weren’t even sure that the bite could be reversed, but decides to keep his mouth shut. He goes to Derek instead, because it’s like he told his dad; Derek needs him. Scott is pack even if he doesn’t want to be yet, and he’ll always be his best friend, but he has Allison. Derek is alone, he just killed his only surviving family member, and his blood-covered hands are shaking. 

Stiles takes one of those hands, ignoring the blood, and pulls the werewolf away from Peter’s body. When they’re across the clearing, Stiles uses his free hand to tilt Derek’s head down so that it’s pressed against his neck. He rubs his back gently, but doesn’t say anything. ‘Sorry you had to kill your crazy uncle who murdered your sister for her power’ seems insensitive and cruel, and he doesn’t know how else to start a conversation. 

He can hear Scott in the background make an aggravated noise, hear Jackson groan out, “Dude, there’s a dead body right there, really,” and can feel the heat of Chris’ stare, but he just holds Derek closer. 

“Everyone should head home and get some rest. We can sort all of this out in the morning.”

Only Scott disagrees, but luckily Allison gets his anger under control before he can do something stupid. She pulls him away with a tight nod. Chris promises that he’ll take care of the bodies before taking off into the house to see what’s become of his sister, and Jackson leaves in his car with an ominous promise to “be back.”

Stiles holds Derek close to him until they’re all out of sight, then finally let go. The werewolf’s eyes are glowing alpha red. “Let’s get out of here,” Stiles mutters, already moving to the Camaro. Derek only hesitates for a second before following after him and passing him the keys. The drive home is quiet in an uncomfortable way, but only because Stiles can tell that Derek hasn’t taken his eyes off of the blood on his hands.

John is waiting up for them when they finally get home. His furious expression softens when he sees the shuddering state that is Derek Hale, and lets them pass without a word. After Derek is safely in the shower, Stiles goes down and explains everything that happened.

“Damn kid, nothing is ever easy, is it?” He rubs his face. “I thought the plan was that Scott was going to ki- take care of Peter, so he could be human again.”

Stiles sighs and takes a sip of his coffee – decafe, because lord knows he doesn’t need the caffeine. “We didn’t even know that that was a sure way to reverse the bite. Derek’s never known anyone who turned into a human if they were already a werewolf. Besides, can you honestly tell me that Scott would have been strong enough to kill someone like that? Even if he was doing it for his own personal gain? Because I don’t think that he could.”

The sheriff takes a drink from his mug and contemplates the question. “Probably not. That kid is too goodhearted, and definitely is not strong enough. Just-what happened to the bodies? How am I supposed to bullshit my way through this report?”

He bites his lip, thinking about it. “If I say let it go, what would your response be? Because Chris said he was going to take care of them, and I didn’t exactly ask what that meant, so I don’t even know if they’ll turn up.”

“Will you just promise me that you’ll try your best to stay out of trouble? Now that the alpha is gone and Kate is dead? At least try?”

He knows that he needs to be honest with his dad. “The best I can, yes. But there are still hunters in town, I’m not sure I trust Chris 100%, and I’ll do whatever it takes to protect Derek and Scott. So no, I can’t promise that I’ll stay out of trouble, but I can promise that I’ll tell you about everything that’s going on. I hope that’s enough.”

John looks like he wants to argue, point out that hearing his son basically say that he’ll charge headfirst into a battle for his friends is not reassuring, but he’ll take what he can get. He’s seen how stubborn his son is about his friends, and he doesn’t want to lose him. “Alright, it’s good enough.” He drains his cup. “Now, I think you have an alpha to take care of, don’t you?” Under his breath, he mutters a quick curse, but doesn’t ask anything else. 

Stiles just smiles, puts his mug in the sink, and heads upstairs. Derek is already tucked into his bed, but Stiles takes the time to shower and brush his teeth before joining him. When they’re pressed side-by-side, breathing in the dark, Derek whispers, “Scott hates me.”

Stiles scoffs. “Right now, yeah he does. But that’s only because he’s been selfishly focusing all on himself and hasn’t been looking at the big picture. He’ll come around, I’ll make sure of it.

The werewolf sounds so defeated when he replies, “I won’t make you choose me over him, Stiles. I can’t-. I won’t ruin your friendship.”

The comment makes him snort. “Please, like you can make me do anything. I think you’ve seen how stubborn I can be. Besides, this isn’t about me choosing between you. I’m choosing both of you, that’s all. I just need to get my hard-headed best friend to see that. But he will, I promise.” Derek keeps quiet, not believing that what he’s saying can be true, so Stiles reaches out, grabs his hand, and changes the subject. “How are you feeling?”

Derek whines. “It’s overwhelming.” Stiles watches as the werewolf’s eyes turn red, glowing in the dark. “I didn’t think that being an alpha would feel that much different than being a beta, but it does. And it’s not just the amount of power that has changed; my wolf is hungry now. It wants a pack, wants to give someone the bite and start building up something powerful.” He shudders and admits in the smallest voice, “I’m afraid of it. I’m afraid I’m going to hurt someone.”

The amount of honesty in his voice takes Stiles by surprise. He tightens his grip on Derek’s hand. “Well hey, I taught Scott how to be a werewolf; I’ll just have to teach you how to be an alpha.” Absurdly, it makes Derek laugh. Stiles smiles, pleased with himself. “You told me once that the bite is a gift, and obviously being a werewolf isn’t a bad thing. As long as you don’t run around picking random people to turn, creating a pack isn’t out of the realm of possibility. We just have to be careful with it, that’s all.”

“We?” His voice is soft, not hard and angry, and he squeezes Stiles’ hand. It makes something warm surge inside of Stiles, but he pushes it aside. They have to many things to worry about right now – dealing the hunters and making a treaty of some sort with Chris; getting Scott to stop thinking about himself long enough to see that Derek killing Peter was the only choice; explaining to Lydia just what the hell is going on in Beacon Hills, since she was almost mauled by Peter in his sick attempt to draw Scott out; apparently putting together a list of potential candidates for the bite – there are just too many things for Stiles to even think about what the possibility of ‘we’ could be. He wants too, God does he want to, but he knows that it can wait. 

Instead he just presses closer to Derek and closes his eyes. “Yes, we.”

\----------

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Stiles makes a wild gesture in Jackson’s direction. Derek is pressed close to his side where they’re sitting on the front porch steps, frowning even though his lips are trying to pull up into a smile. Scott doesn’t manage to hold back his laughter. Stiles turns around to scowl at him. “You can’t be serious, you think that this a good idea too? Scott, really!”

His best friend just doubles over in laughter, nearly falling out of his chair. Allison pats his back and sends Stiles a sympathetic look.

It’s been a few weeks since everything with Peter went down, and even though it was rough getting through them, things are looking up. Scott is still weary of Derek, but he’s come to understand that there would have been no way he could have killed Peter himself. And, he’s slowly coming to accept the bite for what it is: a gift.

The addition of Allison took both Derek and Stiles by surprise. But when she showed up at Scott’s side at their first pack-meeting, her jaw clenched and gaze determined, they didn’t turn her away. She had approached her parents with an ultimatum: they either overcome their prejudice, make an honest deal with Derek, and allow her to keep seeing Scott, or she would move out. Victoria was as furious as she was proud to see her daughter take charge, and even though Chris gave his hesitant consent, it was ultimately Victoria’s decision. They made a compromise; Allison could keep seeing Scott and would be allowed around Derek, but she had to continue her hunter training and if either of them hurt anyone, she would not get in her parents’ way when it came to putting them down. Allison agreed.

So here they are, their rag-tag pack, trying to find someone to give the bite to now that everything is safe, and their first option is _Jackson._ “You can’t be serious.”

Derek circles his hand around Stiles’ flailing wrist. “Stiles, he’s come to us asking for it. Why is that such a problem?”

He mutters, “Because he’s a douchbag,” under his breath then states louder, “Because he’s selfish and that won’t be good for the pack. You don’t honestly think that he would make a good beta.”

Jackson scowls over at him from where he’s standing, looking like he’s seriously considering throttling Stiles. His expression crumbles though and he flinches back when Derek says, “Stiles does have a point. Giving you the bite would mean that you would be my beta. In this pack, I have the power, and I won’t turn someone who is going to ignore that. Being an omega may not mean anything to you now, but it will. And I won’t subject you to that, even if you want the bite.”

Lydia, who came with her boyfriend to see the alpha werewolf, huffs. “Trust me, Jackson wants to be pack. He’s just too prideful to admit it.”

Jackson glares at her, but under her cool expression he crumbles again. “She’s right.” His voice is small. It reminds Stiles of when he wasn’t such a dick. “I know I haven’t been the nicest person in the past, and I know that I can be self-centered. But being a-” he glances around, as if any of their neighbors are close enough to overhear their conversation (Derek wouldn’t let them talk about it if there were). “Being a werewolf is about more than power. It’s about having control, and about having people who accept and support me.”

Stiles wants to snort, but Derek is nodding. “I know you’re telling the truth, which is why I’m considering it. Pack is about loyalty though, and this is what my pack looks like. I need to know that you can accept all of them before I will even ask them to consider accepting you.”

Stiles wants to cheer because Derek sounds so in control and so sure of himself. But at the same time, he wants to smack the back of his head because seriously, _Jackson!_

For his part, the jock examines everyone sitting behind Derek. His calculating gaze holds on Stiles the longest. Finally, he nods and meets Derek’s eyes. “I can.”

Even though his heartbeat doesn’t waver, Derek presses, “Even Stiles?”

Jackson swallows and agrees, “Even Stiles.” 

Derek turns to raise an eyebrow at Stiles, smugness radiating off of him. Stiles scowls at him until he leans closer, placing his lips against Stiles’ ear and says, “You know, if he’s in our pack that means that you’ll be able to boss him around. You are my second, after all.”

Scott chokes on his laughter again, Jackson frowns in unhappiness at having missed out on whatever Derek said, and Stiles pulls back with wide eyes and a sharp grin. “I approve, damn straight I approve. Give the douchbag the bite!”

The jock actually looks afraid for a minute. “What did you say to him?”

Stiles waves off his alarm. “Important pack stuff, it doesn’t matter to you.”

Lydia is watching him closely. Weeks ago, he would have been thrilled at having all of her attention on him. Now he just gazes back coolly and lets her find what she’s looking for. Her lips pull up into an impressed smile, like she’s proud of him almost, and she nods. “Jackson, do you want this or not? Because I’m getting my hair done in an hour and I won’t be late.”

Jackson swallows and nods, meeting Derek’s calculating gaze. “I want this.”

The alpha smiles. “Okay. We have some other people to talk to today, but when it’s time, I’ll contact you.”

Jackson looks so relieved, Stiles thinks that picking him might not be that much of a mistake after all. 

The conversations with their other choices go smoothly. Erica Reyes agrees almost as soon as they tell her that she wouldn’t have seizures anymore; she’s willing to take the risk if it means that her health gets better. Isaac Lahey is drawn by the promise of control and autonomy, plus he just really wants someone to care for him honestly and the pack can provide that; he’s willing to risk it because he doesn’t have anything to lose if it goes wrong. Vernon Boyd is the hardest person to convince, but ultimately seeing how close the pack is makes his decision for him; he doesn’t want to be alone anymore. 

At the end of the day, Stiles feels good about what they’ve decided. Not only does he think that each person’s life will be made better because of the pack, but seeing everyone work together to make the decision made him feel warm. It showed him how well they can come together, and how positive the pack is.

When the day comes to give the bite, everyone gathers at Derek’s new loft. Scott and Allison are both nervous. They press together in Derek’s kitchen and watch everything from afar. Lydia is with them even though she wants to be by Jackson’s side, because it’s safer for her to give the werewolves space. Stiles stays by Derek’s side in the living room, letting the alpha draw strength from him.

Jackson gets the bite first. He’s the most confident of the four of them, and volunteers for it. Everyone watches closely as he bares his throat and Derek presses closer. He makes a low whining sound when the fangs pierce his skin, but keeps himself still. 

Erica is next. She also bares her neck, but Derek takes one of her wrists instead. The fear in her eyes softens at the gesture, until she closes them and accepts the pain. Both Isaac and Boyd take the bite on their arms, and then they wait. It’s the most uncomfortable part of the evening. Allison passes around plates of food, but hardly anyone feels like eating. Even Scott just picks at his plate. Stiles keeps one hand pressed against Derek’s back, but his attention is focused on everyone else. He keeps up a conversation with Erica and Isaac, and is pleased when Jackson joins in. It keeps the mood light.

Isaac is the first person to change. When the wound on his arm heals, the conversations die off and everyone watches as his eyes turn beta gold. Derek’s proud smile is nearly blinding, and the look of utter relief on Isaac’s face makes Stiles’ heart race. Jackson is next. When his fangs descend, Stiles expects him to look smug. Instead, the sheer joy on his face is a nice surprise. Lydia crosses the loft to wrap him in a hug despite the danger. Boyd’s shift is just as smooth. When his bite heals, he grins over at Derek and Stiles. He looks happier than Stiles has ever seen him, his smile is wide and honest.

Erica’s bite doesn’t heal, not right away. Seeing everyone else change makes her nervous, but she clamps her jaw together and doesn’t let her fear show. It breaks Stiles heart, because it should have happened by then, she should be healing. The loft is silent, and everyone watches her. The smiles on the newly changed betas’ faces have fallen away. Isaac looks sad, Jackson sorry, and Boyd’s expression closes off completely. Scott holds Allison tighter, but doesn’t look away.

And then Erica starts to laugh, and her eyes start glowing, and everyone can breathe a little easier. They all made it through the change. It’s better than Derek let himself hope.

\----------

Things don’t really change much after that; the only difference is that they’re group has gotten bigger. Scott and Derek still get into arguments, and Jackson can still be a jerk, but Isaac stops flinching every time someone touches him, Lydia stops pretending to be stupid, and Erica learns to love herself. They help take care of each other, sharing burdens and happy times. They help each other grow and find themselves, and make sure that no one is ever left alone again.

Stiles never thought that he would have this. He was always the spazzy kid with a big mouth and only one friend. He never expected to find a place where he felt so whole. He never expected to feel a part of something bigger. But watching the werewolves wrestle in his backyard while his dad barbeques, he knows that he’s found his place.

Derek presses against his back to look at the pack through the kitchen window. “This is good,” he mutters. His voice is light in awe, as if he too never expected to find a family again. 

Stiles leans back against him and smiles. “Yeah.”

Erica looks up from where she’s polishing her toenails and winks at them, making Stiles flip her off and scowl. He can nearly hear her laughter through the glass.

“Come on, Sourwolf. If we leave them out there alone too long, Jackson will start digging up the grass.” Derek huffs, but he doesn’t move away. Stiles turns around to look at him. “Derek? You kind of need to back up if we’re going to get out there? Dad’s almost done with the burgers so-.”

The werewolf brushes a hand down Stiles’ check, effectively shutting him up. When he licks his lip, Stiles watches the movement and mimics it unconsciously. “Melissa is out there to keep them all in line, and if Jackson starts digging holes, Lydia will throttle him. I think we can leave them there for a few more minutes without worrying about it.”

Stiles just nods, too busy staring at the werewolf’s mouth to even really hear what he said. “Derek, I-.”

“You know, months ago, right after we told your dad about werewolves, I heard what you told him.” Stiles snaps his gaze up to look into Derek’s eyes, trying to recall what he said. “You said that you were my pack and that you were going to stand beside me and take care of me no matter what.” His smile is soft. “I remember that I was so confused, because we weren’t even friends, not really. But my wolf preened when you said that. It trusted you even though I wouldn’t allow myself to. After that first night, when you bought all those damn pillows and held onto me in a way that no one else had in too long, my wolf gave itself to you. That was why I was so comfortable sleeping in front of you. You were my safe place, and then you called me pack.

“Stiles, I was in a dark place, and even now I have times that I struggle. But through it all, you’re there. You’re this beacon for me, an anchor for my wolf, and-,” Derek cuts himself off abruptly, suddenly nervous. He backs away and rubs at the back of his neck, dropping his gaze down. “I guess I just thought you deserved to know?” It comes out as a question though, and Stiles smiles. He glances back over his shoulder at the pack. His dad is watching them with narrowed eyes. When their gazes lock, his sighs over dramatically and makes a ‘go-ahead’ motion with the spatula. A smile pulls at his lips though, and his eyes are fond. Scott gives him a thumbs-up. Lydia looks way too smug. 

Stiles closes the blinds and turns back to Derek. “That day at the old house, I acted on instinct. All that I knew as I moved from shop to shop was that I needed to do everything I could to help you. And when I offered you my bed whenever you needed it, it wasn’t out of pity. It was me, genuinely wanting you to lean on me.” He presses in closer, smile small but bright. “I wanted to be that person for you, and I want to be that person now. Always, Derek. Always.”

The werewolf huffs. “You’re seventeen,” he says. It sounds like he’s reminding himself. 

Stiles shrugs, wrapping an arm around Derek’s waist. “And you’re a werewolf. Really, Derek. Something like age is nothing. Besides, it’s only a few years.”

Derek’s lips twitch up, but he presses them together to keep from smiling. “Your dad-.”

“Told me a few weeks ago, not to hurt you” he finishes with a grin. “Because, let’s be honest; in this relationship, I am obviously the bad influence.”

That cracks Derek open, and his smile is warm and bright. “That’s definitely the truth.”

“Derek, this is something that I want, and it seems like something you want, so what’s the problem. The betas already call me the pack mom, and my dad already loves you. We can go slow, and figure this out, but-.”

Derek kisses him before he can ramble on, a soft culmination of time and affection. Stiles grabs a hold of his waist and holds on tight.


End file.
